Read Last Chance Knit & Stitch Online

Authors: Hope Ramsay

Tags: #Fiction / Romance - Contemporary, #Fiction / Contemporary Women, #Fiction / Family Life

Last Chance Knit & Stitch (34 page)

BOOK: Last Chance Knit & Stitch
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“You’ve gone and got married?”

“Yes,” he said, grinning like an imp.

“Married? You and Ricki?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Jeez Louise. You’ve gone and struck me speechless.” She sat cross-legged on the cool concrete floor.

“You speechless? Not ever gonna happen.”

“Come here and tell me all about it. “

He strolled into the makeshift garage and sat down beside her. And she was immediately struck by the fact that something had changed in their relationship. Something, maybe, for the good. It felt as if they’d both grown up some in the last couple of months. She reached out and squeezed his hands. “I’m happy for you, Les. Really happy.”

He nodded. “Mol, there’s something I want to say to you, and then we’ll never talk about it again. That night when I asked you to marry me, I didn’t do it just because everyone thought Miriam Randall had picked me for you. The fact is that I do love you. I’ve loved you for a long time. But if I’d waited just a little bit, I would have realized that Ricki was always the one God meant for me. She spins my world. And you will always be my best friend. And I want to apologize for everything that’s happened, including the fact that LeRoy fired you. I didn’t know he was going to do that to you. But I should have walked away from that job the minute it happened. I didn’t because I was angry with you, and being angry never did help any situation.”

“Amen to that.”

“I’ve also got some really great news. With a little help from Dash Randall and Simon Wolfe, everything is going to be fixed like it was before.”

Molly wasn’t sure she wanted things fixed like they were before. But she played it cool. “What are you talking about?”

“Dash Randall has bought Wolfe Ford. He signed the papers yesterday. He called me half an hour ago, and he’s offered me my old job back. He wants to get the doors open as fast as possible so customers don’t have to drive
eighty miles to find warranty service. I talked to LeRoy, and he’s willing to give you your job back. And Dash is more than happy to give us space in the dealership’s garage to work on the Shelby. He told me that Simon made him promise to do that. He also said he probably would have done it anyway.”

Wow. In one or two fell swoops, her life was almost back to normal. Not that normal felt that way anymore.

“If you’re okay with it, Dash said we could move the Shelby tonight. Bubba’s happy to help, and LeRoy said we could use his flatbed. And that means I can get to work on the engine, and you can get to work painting the thing.”

She was happy. Really happy for Les. And for the Ford owners in Allenberg County. And it would be good to have a real job and not to be mooching off Momma and Coach. But it all seemed like kind of a letdown, somehow.

She got up off the floor and looked around at the old loading dock where she’d been working. “I wanted to put our business here,” she said, emotions tumbling inside her and making it hard to breathe. Damn it all, her emotions had been on a runaway train for a week at least.

“I’m sorry about that. But there isn’t anything we can do about it. I’m sure Lark Chaikin would be happy if she could get in here and start her renovations a little early. And maybe having a bunch of artists and crafters living in Last Chance would be good for the community. We’ll find a space for our business. But we need to get the Shelby finished first.”

“You still want to be my partner?” she asked.

He stood up and came to stand beside her. “Of course I do. But I would understand if you wanted to boot me to
the curb. I’ve been a real jerk the last couple of months. I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” she said. And then she threw herself into his arms. It was a friendly hug. A brotherly hug. But it was really nice to be hugging on Les once again.

The denizens of the Feather Canyon Retirement Community were in the middle of celebrating July Fourth when Simon pulled Daddy’s Taurus up the drive. The place was hung with red, white, and blue bunting while a raucous potato sack race was under way on the lawn.

None of the old folks were actually racing. They evidently had imported a bunch of children for that purpose.

All in all, the place was exactly as it had appeared in the online brochure. The community backed up against a mountain and was set in among tall western pines. It looked clean and tidy and quite patriotic today. It was only a fifteen-minute drive from Simon’s mountaintop home, where he and Mother had spent last night after a two-week drive across the country.

The drive had been surprisingly easy, considering the distance and Simon’s frame of mind. They’d stopped along the way a few times to take in some sights. But mostly, it had been long stretches of flat farmland with the satellite radio tuned to the classical music station.

Mother had enjoyed that. And she had her knitting to keep her occupied.

Thank God Angel knew something about knitting. He trailed behind them in his Jeep, with his new dog for company, and kept them both on track.

Somewhere in Nebraska, Mother started calling Simon by name, almost as if the farther she got from Last Chance,
the harder she clung to the familiar. He didn’t know whether to rejoice or feel guilty.

In truth, he didn’t know what to feel. He was numb most of the time, confused, and lost in a yearning he had no words for. How could he be missing Last Chance? He’d been running from the place for so long. Or was this ache inside him just for Molly? Either way it didn’t matter. The woman and the place were tangled up together.

And he’d been told, in no uncertain terms, that his presence in Last Chance was not welcomed. And clearly, the woman he yearned for was not for him. He needed to move on, as he’d done so effectively in the past.

“Well, Mother, we’ve made it home,” he said as he turned off the engine.

She stared through the windshield at the old folks who seemed to be having one heck of a good time watching the kids race. “The race reminds me of the Watermelon Festival,” she said. The longing in her voice matched the one in his heart. “I’ve never missed a Watermelon Festival. Did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t,” he said, the guilt spilling through him.

“I remember the time Stone Rhodes ran off with Sharon McKee.”

“Mother, everyone remembers that.”

She turned toward him, and her dark eyes seemed clear today. “Well, I’m glad I remember it. And I’m surprised you remember it at all.”

“Stone was my classmate.”

“I know.” She looked down at her hands.

“We better get going—”

“Simon, I remember something else.”

“What?”

“I remember what I said to you.”

He froze, unable to speak.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said. I didn’t really mean it. I was just upset. I thought you would argue with me instead of just walking away.”

“I’m not like Daddy. I don’t enjoy arguing. I’d made up my mind, and no amount of yelling at me was going to change things. As for what you said—in my head I knew you didn’t mean it. It hurt, though. But I forgave you a long time ago.”

She looked up, a frown on her face. “Then why did you stay away for so long? Did you hate me so much for that one ugly thing I said? I remember when you were little and we used to work in the garden together. You didn’t hate me then.”

He suddenly knew exactly how it felt to have his heart pierced by the sharpest arrow. He stared at his mother. She was still young looking and quite attractive. She held her shoulders straight, as always. She could still manage to keep herself looking well turned out. And on days like this, she seemed herself.

But days like this were rare. Most of the time she seemed confused and cloudy.

This might be the only time to say whatever nasty thing he’d been saving up for all these years.

But it didn’t matter. What mattered was telling her the truth. And explaining that his biggest problem with becoming a doctor was his deep-seated fear of death.

“Mother,” he said, “do you remember Luke Raintree?”

She nodded.

“Well, I was there when he died. I watched it happen. And it changed me.”

“You were there?”

He nodded. And then he told her the rest of the story. By the end of it, tears were tracking down his cheeks.

And Mother’s, too.

They sat in the car for another few minutes, saying nothing at all, until finally Mother pulled in a deep breath. “I wish you hadn’t kept this a secret. I wish your daddy and I hadn’t been arguing that night. I wish …” She paused for a long moment, looking down at her hands, toying with the wedding ring she still wore. “I know you won’t believe this, but I loved your daddy with all my heart. We just liked to argue, is all. I miss arguing with him. Some people are like that. And I think maybe you might have been a happier child if you’d had a brother or sister. But I could only have you. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t feel as if he had to say anything in response. He’d gotten all the forgiveness he would get. He had to be satisfied with it or spend the rest of his life feeling resentful.

And he didn’t want to live like that.

“Come on, let’s get you moved in.” He unbuckled his seat belt.

“I miss home,” she said casting her gaze at the bunting-draped buildings. “This is a nice place. I can see that. But it will never be my home.”

“It will if I’m here with you, Mother.” He said the words, but somehow even he didn’t fully believe them.

Dash Randall was holding the be-all and end-all of July Fourth celebrations under a tent out at his stables. He’d invited everyone from Randall Ford and was treating the crowd to beer and barbecue from the Red Hot Pig Place.

But Molly was having trouble eating it. Which was strange because she’d been eating barbecue from the Pig Place all her life.

She looked down at her plate and had to fight her gag reflex. The smell of it was enough to send her stomach into serious knots.

She furtively glanced at Les and Ricki, who were sitting at her table. Thank God they were too busy feeding each other hush puppies to pay her any attention. Beau and Allen were sitting beside her. Allen was scarfing down food like it was the end of the world.

Beau, who was bald and thin, looked at his plate and played with his food. Sort of like Molly. She was beginning to think that she ought to go see Doc Cooper. It was one thing to show solidarity with her little brother by cutting her hair and working on Chemo Caps. But it was quite another to be feeling nauseated all the time. She felt sorry for Beau, but really, did she need to go all the way and share his symptoms?

Especially on the Fourth of July?

In addition to the employees of Randall Ford, Dash had also invited the board of Angel Development; all the volunteers who helped out at Coach’s summer camp; the members of the book club, who were Savannah’s friends; and all the members of the Christ Church Ladies’ Auxiliary.

So it was a big crowd. And Dash had promised fireworks and dancing.

Not that Molly felt like dancing.

In fact, she felt like crap. She’d been feeling like crap for days. And not just the fact that she missed Simon Wolfe. This was a physical thing.

Why should she feel this way when her life had returned to normal? She even had reason to be optimistic about Beau’s chances for recovery. In September, he was going to have a bone marrow transplant.

So everything was fine. Except her stomach.

And her heart. Which was sort of broken. But that was her own fault. She should have known better.

Momma sat down at the table. “Aren’t you going to eat anything?” she asked, eyeing Molly’s plate. The fact that Momma had singled her out, and not Beau, was deeply distressing.

“I’m not that hungry.”

Momma’s gaze intensified, as if she were on the scent of something serious. When Momma got that look in her eye, it usually meant trouble. Molly didn’t like being on the receiving end of a look like that.

“Did you eat any breakfast?”

She forced herself not to shrug or roll her eyes. Doing that would only make Momma mad. “I had some Cheerios.”

“Uh-huh. Did you have milk on them?”

“No.” She thought about lying, but lying wasn’t her strong suit. Milk was another food that just didn’t sit very well. Cheerios, on the other hand, were suddenly delicious. Along with peaches and plums, both abundant this time of year. It was kind of too bad that Dash didn’t have any peaches or plums on the menu. She could eat a dozen of them.

Momma was really giving her the evil eye now.

“What?” Molly said.

“You and I need to have a talk,” Momma said in her parental-command voice.

“Right now?”

“Right now.” Momma stood up. And Molly knew there was no escape.

Shoot, she was in trouble, but she was having a hard time figuring out how. She decided not to cause a scene. She stood up. Momma took her by the arm and steered her all the way down to the corral.

When they got there, Momma turned, her gaze kind of somber. “Molly Ann Canaday, are you pregnant?”

Wow. That question was almost like being struck by lightning. So naturally she was utterly unable to think of a reasonable reply.

“Are you?” Momma had the funniest look in her eyes, all soft and dewy. She didn’t seem angry about it.

“Uh,” Molly said.

“You don’t even know, do you?”

Well that was kind of pitiful. Really. How could she be pregnant and not know?

Crap. She and Simon had used condoms. How could she be pregnant
at all
?

“I’m going to get my shotgun and kill that man,” Coach bellowed. A big, ugly, red vein had kind of popped out on his forehead. This was a warning sign that Coach’s temper had reached a boiling point. Molly had seen Coach angry at game officials, and sometimes even at players, but she’d never had his full wrath aimed at her.

She was sitting at the kitchen table with Coach and Momma. It was two days after July Fourth, and her trip to Doc Cooper’s this morning had confirmed what Momma had suspected.

Coach continued to glower.

“You can’t take a shotgun on an airplane,” Molly said. Right now sassing him seemed like the right thing to do. Because she was not going to have Coach hauling Simon back here. She was not going to be the victim of a shotgun wedding.

BOOK: Last Chance Knit & Stitch
8.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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